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... ly visible ahead.

His breaths came in ragged gasps, each step heavy with fatigue.

His grey hair, now matted with blood, clung to his face, and his torn, stained clothes revealed the brutal toll the journey had taken on him.

"I have to get out... report this to the empire," he muttered, his voice a pained rasp. Every movement was a struggle, but he forced himself forward, driven by desperation.

The exit was near—so close that he could feel the warmth of the outside ...

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«Huh?»

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«I refuse!.. I really refuse!.. I really try hard to refuse!.. Sorry, I can’t refuse it…»

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***

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, events, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.